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THE ASS CARRYING THE IMAGE

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a sacred image was being carried to the temple. it was mounted on an ass adorned with garlands and gorgeous trappings, and a grand procession of priests and pages followed it through the streets. as the ass walked along, the people bowed their heads reverently or fell on their knees, and the ass thought the honor was being paid to himself.

with his head full of this foolish idea, he became so puffed up with pride and vanity that he halted and started to bray loudly. but in the midst of his song, his driver guessed what the ass had got into his head, and began to beat him unmercifully with a stick.

"go along with you, you stupid ass," he cried. "the honor is not meant for you but for the image you are carrying."

do not try to take the credit to yourself that is due to others.

a raven, which you know is black as coal, was envious of the swan, because her feathers were as white as the purest snow. the foolish bird got the idea that if he lived like the swan, swimming and diving all day long and eating the weeds and plants that grow in the water, his feathers would turn white like the swan's.

so he left his home in the woods and fields and flew down to live on the lakes and in the marshes. but though he washed and washed all day long, almost drowning himself at it, his feathers remained as black as ever. and as the water weeds he ate did not agree with him, he got thinner and thinner, and at last he died.

a change of habits will not alter nature.

two goats, frisking gayly on the rocky steeps of a mountain valley, chanced to meet, one on each side of a deep chasm through which poured a mighty mountain torrent. the trunk of a fallen tree formed the only means of crossing the chasm, and on this not even two squirrels could have passed each other in safety. the narrow path would have made the bravest tremble. not so our goats. their pride would not permit either to stand aside for the other.

one set her foot on the log. the other did likewise. in the middle they met horn to horn. neither would give way, and so they both fell, to be swept away by the roaring torrent below.

it is better to yield than to come to misfortune through stubbornness.

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